//------------------------------//
// Family 
// Story: Shadow Grave 
// by Composer99 
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It was a fine summer’s day in Ponyville: the sun was shining, the air was warm, and a light breeze kept the heat from becoming stifling. It was the kind of day where ponies got up early and finished the day’s work as quickly as they could, the better to enjoy the afternoon. It was the kind of day where retailers shut down early, so long as they weren’t serving food or drinks, and when construction work ground down to a halt shortly after lunch. It was the kind of day where you arranged to have nothing to do, and made sure you were outside and with friends while you were at it.

It was, in short, a perfect day for one of the Apple family’s seasonal visits to see Mom and Dad.





Big Macintosh stood in front of two lightly weathered headstones, decorated with prominent apple-themed images in bas-relief. The headstones were engraved with names and dates identifying the ponies that lay in the ground below.  As one of Ponyville’s oldest settler familes, the Apples had a large plot to themselves in the Ponyville Cemetery, and apple-related cutie marks of one kind or another decorated the majority of the surrounding headstones.

It had long been a family custom that the Apples spoke to their parents in order of age, from oldest to youngest. Granny Smith usually demurred from speaking, save upon their departure, so it fell upon Big Mac to take his turn first.

As the oldest, he had known their parents for the longest, and their presence in the cemetery bore down hardest on him. He stared down at the ground for a moment before squaring his shoulders and looking up at the headstones.

“Ma, Pa,” he said. “It’s me, Big Mac.”

There was a long silence. Big Mac swung his feet back and forth before kicking away a small stone in front of him.

“I, uh, I’ve been takin’ care of things down at the farm and in the orchards. With everypony else, of course.”

There was another long silence.

“I’m keepin’ well. Wish you were here.” There was no missing the catch in his voice as he spoke.

Bowing his head, Big Mac turned and walked back to where the rest of the family was keeping a respectful distance.

Applejack took her hat off and stepped forward.

“Hi, Mom, Hi, Dad,” she said. “It feels like just yesterday we were here to see you for our springtime visit. The apples are growing well. Them vampire fruit bats I told you about last year really are helping – most of the time.”

She paused for a moment. “Me n’ my friends have been getting called out by the Cutie Map – you remember me tellin’ you ‘bout it, right? – a lot since Twilight got it workin’ again. I’ve felt bad about leaving the farm so much, but then Twilight and Rarity helped me sort out why some of my work was takin’ so long. So it’s been a whole lot easier to keep up with everything.”

“I don’t want to bore you none, so I won’t go on too long about it, but I’m proud of my friends, and you oughta know a little about what they’ve been up to. Well, I suppose I should start with somethin’ Twilight’s done since our last visit.”





“… and Rainbow’s been keepin’ well flying with the Wonderbolts. I know the weatherponies here miss having her around full time. They don’t have the same knack for managin’ a storm that she does. But flyin’ fast was always Rainbow’s real passion: weather was just her job. She n’ I still get to arguin’ about stuff a lot, but all the same I’m sure glad she isn’t stuck with the Wonderbolts all the time. I guess they understand that her duty as one o’ the Elements o’ Harmony is more important.”

Applejack paused for a moment, swinging her hat in her forehoof before sighing. “Well, that’s enough outta me. Apple Bloom’s gotta have her turn.”

Applejack stepped back, then turned and returned to her family. Only then did she replace her hat on her head.

Apple Bloom ventured forward hesitantly. She had known her parents least of all, and wasn’t always sure what to say. There had been years in the past when, as a younger filly, she hadn’t wanted to go at all: not having the connection Big Mac and Applejack had, she hadn’t understood what it meant to them. There were days where she still didn’t feel she quite understood, but she had come to accept that, at least for now, this was something they did as a family.

“Hi Mom and Dad,” she started off nervously. “It’s me!”

“I been workin’ hard at school since our last visit. Me n’ Scootaloo don’t get the marks Sweetie Belle does, but grades aren’t everything in life.” She lowered her voice to mutter, so that the rest of her family couldn’t hear her. “Though you wouldn’t think so the way Applejack goes on when mah report card comes home.”

She paused, her lips twitching as she tried to think of something to say, before continuing.

“It’s been weird the last few months, gettin’ to know Diamond Tiara better – you remember how I used to complain about her bullyin’, until she changed her ways. We’ve been spending more time with her and Silver Spoon. They have just about everything a rich pony could want, but some days it feels like they’re just starvin’ for the kind of friendship we Crusaders have together, like they’ve been missin’ it their whole lives.

“It feels funny that here we are, with so much to learn about – well, about everything! – but people are still lookin’ fer our help, ever since we got our cutie marks. I don’t feel anything different because of havin’ the same cutie mark as Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, but ponies keep saying there’s somethin' special about it. I mean, Princess Twilight even wanted to do research on our cutie marks for a presentation she did at her old school!”

Apple Bloom looked back to see her family gazing down at her with the same expressions they’d worn the day she’d got her cutie mark: tearful, proud smiles. Her cheeks burning with colour, she tittered nervously.

“I, uh, I think that’s enough fer now,” she said quickly, then backed out into place with the other Apples.

There was a moment of silence.

“Well,” Applejack said, stepping up again, “I think we’ve all said our piece, for now. We’ll come back again to talk to y’all soon. Don’t go away now, y’hear?” She paused, her eyes welling up, before whispering, “I still miss you both so much.” Then, louder, “Love you, Mom and Dad.”

“Me too!”

“Eeyup.”

Granny Smith spoke the only words she would say for the duration of their visit: “You’re still in trouble for kicking off before me!”





Apple Bloom had once asked Applejack why Granny hardly talked at these visits: on some occasions, her only words were scolding; on others, she said nothing at all.

“Granny can be a bit like Big Mac – you know, doesn’t like to talk about her feelings,” Applejack had explained. “Twilight’d probably call her… call her… what’s that word again? Oh, yeah, stoic. Anyway, she might still be angry with them for passing on before she did – can’t blame her, no parent wants to bury their own child – but I think it’s her way not to show how much grief she’s still feelin’ around us.”

Before Apple Bloom could follow up with more questions, Applejack went on, saying, “Now I know ye’re gonna ask why. It’s up to everypony to deal with their feelings in their own way. And so long as you’re not hurtin’ anypony else, your way is as good as anypony else’s. Granny Smith ain’t one fer blubberin’ and bawlin’, and that’s all right, just like it’d be all right if she was. Long as she wasn’t a drama queen about it the way Rarity is,” she’d gone on to say under her breath, perhaps imagining Apple Bloom couldn’t hear her.





Applejack and Big Mac took just enough time to bring over flowers they’d kept near where they’d each stood. They placed the bouquets in between the two headstones.

Their goodbyes said, the Apple family turned and slowly walked back onto the pathway that curved around the main body of the cemetery. It was too nice a day to spend it all in such morose company. Enjoying their lives, and time they spent with loved ones was, Applejack would often say, what Mom and Dad would have wanted them to do, rather than mope in front of their graves. 





The day wore on. It was silent and still in the Apple family plot for a time. But as the afternoon began to fade into evening, a harsh yellow glow enveloped several of the graves.

There was a moment of stillness, and then, an odd, muffled sound, something like a hoof digging into hard soil as the ground in front of the headstones that had been bathed in magic began to sag.

It was as if they were being dug out from the inside.